Cindermerlin
by artypendragon
Summary: Arthur dances with Ambrosius all night long.


"You're hopeless at this," Arthur murmured into the man's ear as they swayed to the tuneful music.

"Excuse me?" the handsome, raven-haired man asked incredulously, lifting his head from Arthur's shoulder. Arthur peered into his eyes, treasonously golden, utterly enchanting. He snorted.

"How did I think you were taller than me?" Arthur went on as if blissfully ignorant to his partner's offended stare. "Thank you for coming tonight, it would've got frightful; Father does love his balls."

The man choked in (laughter that he failed to pass off as) an indignant scoff.

"My lord, if you wish to dance with another, I am only too pleased—"

"Oh, come on," Arthur teased. "I'm sorry, I shan't rag you further, but I really should've taught you to dance better."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," the man said, stepping on Arthur's toes.

"What was your name again?"

"Myrd—Em—uh, Ambrosius. Mouthful, I know."

"A rose by any other name," Arthur said (anachronistically) pleasantly, twirling Ambrosius to the jealous sighs of the surrounding onlookers. "Whence do you hail?"

"A small kingdom, north of Northumbria," Ambrosius said, ducking his head and dutifully letting himself be wrapped in Arthur's arms. He smelled nice. Fragrant lily masked the less aromatic tang of the meat pies Arthur faintly recalled using for target practice earlier in the day.

"North of Northumbria, I'll have to visit it, especially if it bears such treasures as you."

"Forgive me, sire, but you're pants at flirting."

Arthur bent close to Ambrosius, inhaling the sweet lily scent once more. Ambrosius stilled, though a slight smile played on his lips.

"I'll just have to be direct, then." Arthur tipped the final distance and Ambrosius joyfully arched in his embrace. Somewhere in the background there was a growl of extreme disapproval and of wood splintering, but Uther was due for a new sceptre, anyway.

"Not very good at kissing either, I see," Arthur noted, dipping Ambrosius as he met Uther's gaze unfazed. Ambrosius flailed once before Arthur hauled him back up.

"How rude," Ambrosius said lightly, but he refused to meet Arthur's eyes through his ridiculous half-mask (green sequins messily arranged to look like the top half of a falcon's head, as if Arthur paid salaries in pittances and nothing else was affordable). Arthur drew him close.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "This impertinence is an ill-begotten habit from my manservant. Your kissing was divine."

"What's he like, that manservant of yours? Dashing chap, always saving the day?"

Arthur charmingly fended off a brave woman approaching them. She returned to her gaggle of enablers, disconsolate. The music flowed on, lilting, unconscious of the petty human drama undulating in its midst.

"Bit dim," Arthur said. "Nothing special. Thinks disguising himself and attending his master's ball is a good idea."

"Well, if he were here, which he isn't, I'm sure he wouldn't dare," Ambrosius said, taking the lead (Arthur gladly acquiesced), "wouldn't he use this opportunity to dance with the lady Morgana or her maid or any of the other delightful attendees instead?"

"No, he loves me," Arthur said, confident of that one factor. "He probably thought he was rescuing me from a jinxed match."

"Nothing special, you said?"

"The most special person in the world," Arthur corrected, smiling secretly for the sole pleasure of the man lugging him around the ballroom. "Ambrosius, I do adore your ensemble."

"Gai—my godmother, Gaia, she put this together for me. I'm glad it's to your liking, sire."

"All the more reason to visit North of Northumbria," Arthur said, kissing Ambrosius's hand. Ambrosius laughed quietly, lifting Arthur with surprising strength into the air in time with the tune. Arthur laughed with him. The spectators swooned as one, captivated by the scene.

"It reeks of mugwort at the moment—" Ambrosius began, but Arthur chose to silence him by tucking his face into the crook of his neck.

"Now look what you've done, Merlin," he whispered. "I've gone and fallen in love with you."

Ambr—fine, Merlin pulled him closer. "I hope Morgana doesn't find out I used one of her dresses for my costume."

Arthur snorted.

They waltzed with the music, in a world of their own.

* * *

 _note: this was a fill for a prompt at KinksOfCamelot on LJ! Do check it out~_


End file.
